


Finrod Saves the Day

by Raaf



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff and Crack, M/M, Númenor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raaf/pseuds/Raaf
Summary: In which Númenor gets a good influence instead of a bad one.A prompt fic for actuallymiriel, who requested some Finrod/Pharazôn fluff  ;). Which incidentally seems to now be the first Finrod/Pharazôn posted on Ao3, lol.
Relationships: Finrod/Ar-Pharazôn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

Pharazôn was sitting on his carven throne, in the glory of his power, and brooding darkly. He had heard that Sauron was setting himself up as the King of Kings and Lord of the World. Ridiculous, Sauron was trying to steal Pharazôn’s thing!

While he was doing that, he noticed some of his courtiers hovering nearby.

“Your majesty, a visitor from Valinor begs an audience with you. He says he is King Finrod Felegund. Should we let him in?” Pharazôn’s majordomo asked uncertainly.

Pharazôn was surprised. True, he had never bothered to officially reinstate his Kingdom’s ban against arrivals from Valinor, but he hadn’t expected that to become necessary either. No Elves had ever come to visit Tar-Palantir after he had lifted the ban anyway.

The name rang a bell; Finrod was the Elf-king in the tale of Beren. He might be an Elf, but Pharazôn had a great appreciation for anyone who would throw down in a naked wrestling match with a werewolf, especially someone who could kill one with his teeth. Besides, Pharazôn was curious why Anadûnê was receiving visitors from the West again.

“I will see him.” Pharazôn said graciously.

Finrod practically floated into the room. Pharazôn was impressed despite himself. He expected an Elf to be graceful and glowing, but Finrod the Fair made Pharazôn’s golden throne-room look quite dull by comparison to his radiance.

Pharazôn frowned sternly. “Spare me the lecture on why I should just happily accept death. We have had more than enough of ignorant Elvish condescension on that topic.”

“That is not my intention. You may rest assured that the dear and brilliant Andreth thoroughly knocked some perspective into me about the bitterness of Men’s Gift.” Finrod said ruefully.

“I’m not an Elf-friend either, you know.” Pharazôn pointed out suspiciously.

“But I am a friend of Men however, so that balances out.” Finrod smiled sunnily, making himself even more blindingly beautiful.

Pharazôn was slightly star-struck by the glorious vision in front of him. “Very well, that is a fair point. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

Maybe it was time to reconcile with Valinor again, if they were prepared to be reasonable about Anadûnê’s concerns. And had the benefit of such a delightful emissary. After all, Pharazôn was very lonely since Míriel had run off with Uinen. She had declared that, since Númenor didn’t appreciate her properly as their Sea-Queen, she was going to be a literal Sea-Queen instead.

And so everyone lived happily, if not perfectly, ever after, and at least Sauron never had his shot at seducing Pharazôn into evil.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update!

Finrod was perched on one of the eastern balconies of the palace. Armenelos was built on a high point, and the palace was higher still. The influence of Valinor’s style was clear in the city they had helped to build, but Finrod was pleased to note the distinctly Mannish developments flowing from that base. The perfect geometric symmetry of the buildings, laid out in a circle from the central stronghold, soon started following their own lines instead.  


From Finrod’s vantage point, his Elven eyes could faintly see the island ending at the Sundering Sea. He was grateful that he hadn’t been quite so sundered from the mortal lands that he couldn’t reach Númenor, but it was still strange to think that old Middle-earth laid even further east.  


“Do you like my city?”  


Finrod jolted slightly, but kept his balance on the railing. Pharazôn was inordinately light on his feet for such a large man.  


“Very much.” Finrod said cheerfully, turning around.  


“Care to join me for a proper tour, then?” Pharazôn asked, steadily, but flushing slightly.  


“I would love that,” Finrod smiled, touched. Pharazôn did not look much like Bëor, but at times like this there was something in his firm manner that reminded Finrod of him nonetheless.

* * *

Armenelos was just as amazing from a ground-level view, and his guide was charming and knowledgeable. Finrod had always been keen to learn about the customs of his Mannish friends, but being dead unfortunately left one very out of touch with everything by the time re-embodiment came around. For example, he would never have seen coming the new love of birds the Edain now had. The white sea-birds were everywhere on the rooftops, even though they were not that close to the coast.  


“Why are there so many birds?” Finrod asked.  


“Which birds?” Pharazôn sounded puzzled, apparently oblivious to the mewing of the gulls, before Finrod gestured at them.  


“Oh, tradition. We have a lot of those sticking around,” Pharazôn laughed, “even when we don’t quite remember why. Not that every old tradition is a bad one.” He winked.  


“To new old friendships then!” Finrod laughed cheerily as well.


End file.
